


Tony Stark and the Dime a Dozen Spell

by Lilian_Cho



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Because Tony doesn't always remember the present, Brown-eyed Tony so MCU Tony, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), De-aged tony, Developing Friendships, Everyone knows Coulson is alive, Everyone lives at the Stark Tower AU, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, Kid Tony Stark, Light-Hearted, M/M, Memory Loss, Memory fluctuation, One Shot, Some Plot, Temporary Amnesia, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, sort of, would be more accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilian_Cho/pseuds/Lilian_Cho
Summary: “Thor, look out!”The moment Tony saw the spell take form, he barreled towards his teammate to intercept the flash of purple light. Too late did he remember that: 1) if there was a team member that didn't need his protection, it was Thor a.k.a. the near-invincible alien god, and 2) the Iron Man suit provided zero defense against magic.“Oh, crap,” was Tony’s succinct observation before he was completely engulfed in sparkly purple light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thudworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thudworm/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, Thudworm! I went on a slightly different direction from the usual de-aging fic trope. I hope you enjoy it =)
> 
> Prompt: Tony is de-aged (~6 years old) by the villain of the week. As an adult he has a massive crush on Steve, [which translates to his child self insisting that Steve be the one to look after him primarily.]  
> (Sorry this fic only sort of fulfill the last part of your prompt.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Rea_Saint for proofreading, and for fixing the numbers in this fic. I still think in centimeters after all these years...
> 
> Thank you Sassysnowperson for helping me rewrite the last scene! And for coming up with the two Star Wars quotes in the fic =)  
> ~

It all began when Tony answered a call to assemble. No, that's not right—it actually began several months earlier, when Iron Man started fighting alongside the Avengers post-Chitauri attack. 

As he went on more team missions, Iron Man started to acquire the habit of flinging himself in front of his teammates when they were heavily under attack. Tony loudly defended his habit (to Rhodey and to Steve) as being both tactical _and_ logical, because unlike his squishy, human team members, his suits were built to withstand heavy damage. Sure, the black catsuits looked great on the spy-assassins, but they were not exactly armors. Clint’s uniform didn’t even have _sleeves_. 

“I know my suits don’t look as bulky as War Machine’s—they’re as sleek as a Lamborghini—but trust me, Cap, they’re at least ten times as strong as a tank.” He paused. “Tank would make a good call sign for an armor; J, write that down.” Steve had frowned, but his hypocritical scolding regarding Tony’s self-sacrificing tendencies lessened in intensity after their talk. 

Thus, with implicit permission from Cap, Iron Man had gone on shielding his teammates during Avengers missions. (The exceptions being War Machine and Hulk because a) he built and constantly updated the War Machine armor; he knew just how much heavy damage it could take, and b) the one time he tried, Hulk snorted, lifted Iron Man and placed him behind his enormous green back.) 

The point was, Tony already had this habit ingrained for months when he went to answer the assemble call that day. He was the second Avenger to arrive on the scene. Thor was the first, because the supervillain du jour had picked Thor's favorite frozen yogurt place as their break out scene.

A yeti two stories tall stomped around the pavement, miraculously missing pedestrians and parked cars in its path. A cartoonish frown was set above the purple scarf around its neck. 

“Thor! Save us!” A young girl’s voice came from the yeti’s upraised fist. Another kid was in its other fist, and a third one was stubbornly clinging to the yeti’s right ankle.

The yeti kicked out its leg, sending the boy crashing into a nearby café's table and chairs. 

“ _Tyrone!_ ”

A bystander quickly approached the groaning boy. “I’m okay!” he called out, gingerly sitting up with the woman’s help.

“Okay, Thor, we don’t want to risk the yeti dropping one of the kids,” Tony said. So far, the yeti didn’t seem violent, but that might change at any moment. “You grab the girl, and I grab her friend.”

Thor nodded, hammer swinging in his hand.

“On three. One, two, _three_.” They rapidly flew up to their intended targets.

As Tony flew to the curly-haired boy, he saw something glinting at the corner of the HUD. On the right zoomed-in display, he saw that the girl was incongruously counting out coins on her palm.

_Where did the cartoon yeti come from anyway? This seems less mad scientist and more magic._

“Thor, look out!”

The moment he saw the spell take form, he barreled towards his teammate to intercept the flash of purple light. Too late did he remember that: 1) if there was a third team member that didn't need his protection, it was Thor a.k.a. the near-invincible alien god, and 2) the Iron Man suit provided zero defense against _magic_.

“Oh, crap,” was Tony’s succinct observation before he was completely engulfed in sparkly purple light.

¢ ¢ ¢

“Crap,” Clint echoed Tony’s sentiment, twelve minutes later in Avengers Tower. The yeti had disappeared by the time the other Avengers arrived at the scene. JARVIS had been noncommittal about the status of Tony’s health and had, with Steve’s agreement, flown the Iron Man suit home ahead of the team.

“You said a bad word!” The little boy sitting next to the empty Iron Man suit exclaimed. “You have to apologize to Jarvis!”

“My bad. Sorry, JARVIS.” Clint directed his words at the ceiling.

“Jarvis doesn’t live in the ceiling, silly,” The boy said, giggling behind his hands. The sleeves on his oversized black shirt were folded back haphazardly.

“Where does Jarvis live, Tony?” Steve asked, because there was no mistaking those laughing brown eyes. He leaned forward in his seat, shoulders rounded to make himself look smaller.

“He lives with us at the mansion, of course!” Tony looked around the Avengers common area. “But…this is not the mansion.” 

He realized that Tony must have meant the _human_ Jarvis, who was the Starks’ butler and, as Steve understood it, a father figure for Tony growing up.

Tony’s face fell. “I forgot. Jarvis retired shortly after I graduated from MIT.”

 _MIT?_ Clint and Natasha exchanged a look over Tony’s head.

“How old are you, Tony?”

“I’m six and a half,” Tony said promptly.

“When did you graduate from MIT?” Bruce asked.

“When I was seventeen,” Tony answered, not seeming to notice the strangeness in his replies.

Bruce nodded. “You’re very bright to graduate at such a young age.”

Tony grinned toothily at him. “Aww, you say the sweetest things, Brucie-bear.”

Everyone blinked at him. The quip that adult Tony liked to throw around sounded out of place coming out of a six-year-old.

Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do,” Tony said, sounding surprised. “You’re Bruuuce; you’re my science bro and you turn big and green sometimes.”

“What about me?” Clint asked.

Tony fidgeted on the couch. “Hawkguy. You eat all my pizza and cheat at Mario Kart.”

“A black-and-white interpretation of things, but fair,” Clint said.

Tony turned to face Natasha. “Natashalie. You didn’t want me on the team.” Mouth curving downward, he clutched at the front of his shirt. “That hurt my feelings.”

Steve thought Natasha’s blank expression hid a twinge of guilt.

“Thor!” Tony continued. “You’re an alien, you like pop tarts and frozen yogurt. You’re brothers with a bag of cats; wait, no, that’s not right—” 

“Friend Tony,” Thor boomed. “I do enjoy your wit, even when you are but a babe.”

“I’m not a baby!” Tony protested. “Babies cry and can’t do anything right. I’m a Stark!” 

Natasha lifted a hand to the communicator in her ear. Flicking her eyes at Steve, she silently stepped out of the common area.

Steve excused himself and stood up, and was halted by a small hand tugging at his uniform shirt.

“Where are you going?” Wide brown eyes looked at him imploringly.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I’m just stepping out to the hallway.” 

After a few seconds, Tony nodded jerkily and let go of Steve’s shirt. 

¢ ¢ ¢

Steve gently shut the door adjoining the hallway. It was perhaps for the best that he didn’t hear what Tony thought of him. When he moved to the tower, he had apologized about their first meeting, but Tony had waved it away as the influence of Loki’s staff. However, Steve knew that he had not imagined the deep hurt in Tony’s eyes during their confrontation on the Helicarrier.

“SHIELD has apprehended the spell casters responsible.” Natasha’s words cut into his thoughts. 

“Penelope Nguyen, thirteen years old.” JARVIS helpfully pulled up a picture of a young girl with long black hair, smiling in front of a blue background.

“Tyrone Chase and Shawn Oliver, twelve years old.” Pictures of a black boy with expressive gray eyes and a white boy with curly blond hair popped up next on the holoscreen.

“The three of them are in the New York foster care system,” Natasha said. “Penelope and Shawn go to the same middle school, and Shawn and Tyrone live in the same group home. They decided they want out of the system.” 

“And?” Steve cut in. “What was that spell they cast on Tony? How do we undo it?”

“They called it a ‘Dime a Dozen spell.’ SHIELD had taken away all the coins they had on them as a precaution.” After the incident, JARVIS had transmitted the playback of Tony’s HUD capture to Coulson and the other Avengers. 

“Penelope said she found the spell in a water-damaged spell book in a used bookstore. Shawn said she saw it on a magic website. We have agents chasing down those leads. Tyrone refused to say anything; he doesn’t seem to trust anyone at SHIELD.”

“Considering that SHIELD just kidnapped three minors and is keeping them in indefinite custody, I can’t say I blame him,” Steve said dryly. 

“They’re being held on suspicion of magical terrorism.” Needless to say, the government takes that very seriously after Loki and the Chitauri. “They also currently look like adults in their twenties. Makes it easier to keep them in custody,” Natasha said, a twist to her mouth betraying where her sympathies lay.

“So, the spell…”

“Took thirty-six years off Tony and redistributed the years to the three of them.”

¢ ¢ ¢

Steve re-entered the common area, Natasha’s words weighing on his mind. He didn’t like SHIELD’s handling of the three kids, but if SHIELD’s magic consultant was to be trusted, the ones who cast the spell should be the one who reverse it to avoid further ‘complications.’ He would give it a few days…

“…but why, JARVIS?” Tony implored in a high, clear voice. 

“I was concerned that hearing me speak would cause you undue distress at your current state,” JARVIS said. Steve could see why he wouldn’t want to remind Tony of his predecessor’s absence.

“You know that I want you to be your own person, right, J?” Tony asked earnestly. “I was named after mom’s cousin, but she never expected me to be like Uncle Antonio.”

“You should heed his wise words, steward JARVIS,” Thor said. “Never have I seen such fond affection between a lord and his vassal!”

Bruce and Clint looked bemused at Thor’s contribution.

“You’ve been in my life all these years,” Tony said softly, rubbing at the left gauntlet of the armor next to him. “Longer than Happy, longer than _Pepper_ , even.”

There was a brief pause, then, “And likewise, you have been there for the entirety of my existence.” Steve could hear the sincere affection in the A.I.’s voice. “I apologize that my keeping quiet had added to your distress.”

Tony wiped at his eyes with one hand. “Right. See that you don’t do that again.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

Thor stood up, Mjolnir at his side. “I have little knowledge of the arcane arts of magic, but I shall seek the advice of one well-versed in such matters.” 

If Thor planned to consult Loki, Steve didn’t know what he was going to do. Restrain Clint from assaulting an alien prince, most likely.

“Mayhap my lady mother knows of a way to safely unravel this spell.” 

Or not. One of these days they should sit down with Thor and go over his entire family tree.

“You, come with me,” Natasha said, snagging Clint by his shirt collar. Steve hadn’t noticed her slipping in after him.

“But whyyy,” Clint whined. 

“We have an uncooperative youth not responding to any of the SHIELD operatives,” Natasha said. “He’s a twelve-year-old who currently looks like an adult. You’re an adult who’s actually twelve. It’s a great match.”

Clint muttered something about freaky Fridays, and the elevator doors closed behind them.

Bruce, Steve and Tony looked at one another.

“Tony, would you like me to—” 

“No need, Bruce,” Tony cut in. “Unlike certain archer spies, I’m not _actually_ six, you know. I don’t need you to stay around to entertain me.”

Bruce snorted. “Tony, just yesterday you were shooting at me with a slime gun because I wasn’t paying enough attention to you.”

“At least I waited until you were done with your lab experiments!”

“JARVIS’ scans said you’re a perfectly healthy six-year-old,” Bruce continued, “and I don’t think further medical tests are necessary at this point. Thank goodness we’re not dealing with an arc reactor in your chest—”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Tony interrupted, tapping a rhythmic beat on the middle of his chest. “I’m wearing the same shirt, pants and underwear, but the arc reactor just disappears? How does that make sense?”

Bruce shrugged, as if to say _magic._

Tony pursed his lips and made a grumpy face at his friend. Steve laughed softly under his breath.

“If you suddenly feel off, or if you need anything at all, I’ll be down at my lab,” Bruce said. 

“Feeling off like suddenly being a first grader?” Tony said, raising his eyebrows. It seemed like he hadn’t mastered the art of lifting a single eyebrow at this age. “It’s fine, Bruceykins, I have Steve here to make sure I don’t electrocute myself.” 

Tony turned to smile brightly at Steve. “Right, Cap?”

“Uh, right.” Steve was flummoxed. Tony wanted to spend time with him instead of Bruce? Not that he wasn’t flattered, but he had no illusions as to who Tony’s favorite on the team was.

“Just keep any explosions away from the common floor and my lab,” Bruce said placidly. “See you at dinner, then?”

Steve nodded.

“Curry?” Tony asked hopefully.

Bruce smiled. “If you think your current taste buds can handle it.”

¢ ¢ ¢

Tony bounced off the couch after Bruce left. “Let’s go shopping!” he said with a clap of his hands.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Shopping, Steve! You can’t expect me to go around looking like _this_ ,” He pulled at his adult self’s baggy shirt with a grimace. As if on cue, the oversized pants he was wearing dropped onto the floor. The bright red boxer briefs somehow stayed put.

“Come on,” he wheedled, kicking his pants to the side. “It’ll be fun! Do you know how many Iron Man and Avengers themed kids wear they have out there? We can also buy you a wardrobe that is not khaki or plaid. Think of it as my contribution to the betterment of human race.”

“The betterment of human race,” Steve repeated flatly. _His wardrobe wasn’t_ that _out of place. Although he did catch Natasha giving him speculative looks before..._

“Pleeeeease, I want to go _do_ something. And since I doubt JARVIS would let me tinker with my suits right now—”

“Indeed, Sir,” JARVIS said in a droll tone.

Steve spent a full minute imagining the horrors of Tony inside a child-sized Iron Man suit and gave an involuntary shudder. 

“—just shopping, Steve! It’s not like I’m asking to go wrestle a lion or jump on the Coney Island Cyclone! Steve, did you hear what I just said?”

Steve, now picturing paparazzi mobs and kidnapping attempts, opened his gambit, “Or, we could stay in.”

Tony groaned theatrically, throwing himself backward across the armor’s lap.

“JARVIS can order those Iron Man T-shirt and pants in your size from the gift store on the tower’s ground floor—” Tony muttered something about Captain America underwear. “—and I’ll let you practice throwing my shield around in the gym.”

Tony sat up with alacrity. “Really? I get to touch the shield and play with it?”

“You get to touch the shield,” Steve confirmed, hoping he had not made a horrible mistake.

¢ ¢ ¢

In short order, Tony was wearing a red T-shirt with a flying Art Deco Iron Man in front, and gray pants with an embroidered Avengers logo. JARVIS had also ordered pajamas, socks, a bathrobe, and a dozen extra shirts and pants bearing the Avengers line-up. Tony immediately fell in love with the plush Hulk slippers.

“They’re almost as awesome as Hobbit feet slippers!” He wiggled one foot at a time then started stomping around the carpeted floor. “JARVIS, tell me they make this in adult men’s size.”

“An adult-sized pair is waiting in your bedroom closet for when you turn back to your proper size,” JARVIS answered. 

“Awesome, J; you read my mind as always.” Tony grinned. “Lead the way, Cap!”

Steve shook his head at Tony’s antics. “Shouldn’t you change into proper footwear for the gym?” Unfortunately, the Avengers Tower gift shop did not carry children’s shoes. As it was, he was surprised by the sheer variety of things that they _did_ carry. Clint likened it to a mini ‘wall mart,’ which Steve gathered was some sort of supermarket-department store hybrid.

“I’ll just go barefoot,” Tony said cheerfully. “Don’t wanna bother with proper shoe fitting if I’m just staying in the tower for now.”

“That’s probably better for your balance too.” Steve nodded approvingly. He hefted the shield on his forearm and walked into the elevator with Tony.

The boy pushed himself up on the handrails, legs dangling and feet bumping against the reflective walls. When the doors opened, he dropped to the floor, and Steve caught and steadied him on his feet.

“It’s almost Christmas. I wonder if it’ll snow. Last year Jarvis showed me how to build a snowman.” Tony rubbed his hands together, as if he were cold. “I hope the pond freezes over; I have an idea for a freeze pellet gun.”

Steve crouched down in front of Tony. He caught those small hands and held them gently. “It _is_ nearly Christmas, you’re right. Tony, do you know what year it is?”

Tony looked at him askance, before his gaze cleared. His narrow shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath. “It’s 2012. Right. We don’t live at the mansion. Actually, I don’t even know who’s maintaining the upkeep at the old mansion; Pepper—Pepper would know.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts would know,” Steve said, squeezing Tony’s hands once before standing back up. Tony shifted his hand in Steve’s grip, and they held hands as they stepped out of the elevator together. 

¢ ¢ ¢

A few minutes later, Steve said gravely, “I think we have a slight size problem in our hands.”

Tony was using both hands to grip Steve’s shield, which covered him from chin to knee. “No, no, I got this, Cap.” His brown eyes gleamed with excitement. “I’ve tossed my share of Frisbees in my time. How hard can it be?”

“Most Frisbees are not made of twelve pounds of vibranium and adamantium, for one,” Steve said wryly.

Tony grunted and adjusted his grip on the shield. “JARVIS, can we have some targets here, please?”

Half a dozen targets obligingly lowered across the middle of the training room.

“Thanks, J,” Tony said. “Okay, here we go. Three, two—”

“Wait!”

“What now?” Tony lowered the shield to rest between his feet.

“Let’s not dislocate your shoulder. I don’t even want to imagine what kind of explanation we would give Bruce.” Tony snorted, but didn’t argue. When members of the team got carelessly hurt, Bruce did passive aggressive guilt tripping like nobody else. 

“How about you try swinging the shield before you actually throw it?” 

“Sir holds the opinion that one should run before one can walk,” JARVIS contributed, disapproval clear in his voice. Knowing Tony, the A.I. was probably referring to an incident in Iron Man’s early career. 

Tony stuck out his tongue at where Steve assumed one of the gym cameras was.

“Well, right now you are your six-year-old self, and you need to walk and jog in place before you start running,” Steve said firmly. He fully knew that he was being hypocritical. Half the time he didn’t bother stretching before he went on his morning runs.

Tony made a show of pouting, but he obediently started swinging the shield back and forth.

Four minutes later, he piped up, “ _Now_ can I try throwing the shield?”

Steve gave him a cautious nod.

Tony’s first two tries hardly cleared nine foot. He reached twelve and a half foot on his third try. Frowning, he rolled the shield back to the starting position. “How to build enough momentum…” he muttered. “Right! Let’s try this. Stand back, Steve!”

Steve took several steps back. He was curious what Tony would try this time.

The boy stood with his back to the line of targets, shield held at shoulder height. Knees bent slightly, he swung with both arms to the right, then spun his whole body anticlockwise one and a half times and let the shield fly. 

Steve watched the metal disc spinning in flight before it knocked down a target just left to the center.

“YES!” Tony pumped both fists high in the air. “Did you see that? Cap, did you see?” He skipped and bounced over to Steve’s side.

“Wow, Tony. That was…truly amazing!” Steve exclaimed, grin wide on his face. “How did you figure out what to do?”

Tony flushed under Steve’s regard. “Well, I figured it’s like throwing an oversized, heavy discus. If I build enough torque, then I can maximize the momentum.” He was looking down now, bare toes fidgeting on the gym mat.

“That was a brilliant throw, Tony,” Steve said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t do half as well my first time with the shield.”

Tony peeked at him from under wavy brown fringe. “Really?” 

“Really,” Steve said. “The shield saved me from being shot at by Peggy, but I didn’t get the hang of throwing it until weeks later.”

Tony giggled. “Aunt Peggy shot you? Why?”

Steve mentally filed away _Aunt_ Peggy for later. “Uh, it was because of—Never mind why. It was all a misunderstanding.” 

Tony looked at him doubtfully and said, “I bet this has to do with kissing. Jarvis always tells me ‘never mind’ when it has something to do with kissing.” 

Steve hummed noncommittally.

Tony raised both eyebrows at him knowingly but didn’t say anything. He took long strides (as long as his six-year-old legs would let him) over to the fallen target and picked up the shield. 

“Will you show me some tricks with the shield?” He asked, after rolling the shield over to Steve. 

“Tricks?” 

“Yeah! I bet you have all sorts of fancy moves I haven’t seen.”

“I don’t know if I’d call them _fancy_ ,” Steve hedged.

“Please, Steve?” Tony turned beseeching eyes at him. It was like being besieged by a dozen tiny meowing kittens. “Captain America and the Howling Commando is—was—my favorite pretend game _ever_.”

Steve couldn’t help but melt. “Okay. Maybe I do have a move or two to show you.”

Tony grinned. “You’re the best, Cap.”

¢ ¢ ¢

A few minutes later, Steve was demonstrating ‘fancy’ maneuvers left and right and had knocked all the targets down thrice over.

“That shield does not obey the law of physics at _all._ ” Tony sounded impressed nonetheless.

Next Steve was talked into doing one-handed push-ups with Tony perched on top of him.

“Oh, do that one where you alternate one clap and one push-up!”

“O…kay?” Steve did his best to oblige.

“I bet you can do this all day without getting tired,” Tony said speculatively. “I bet you can do it for one hundred days straight!”

Steve picked that moment to collapse dramatically onto the floor. 

“Oh no. Can’t—do—another—push-up. You weigh a ton!”

Tony rolled off Steve’s back onto the floor, giggling. “No, I don’t! I weigh forty-six pounds. And even if I weigh a thousand kilogram, I bet you can still carry me on your back!” 

“I’m an old man; you should pity my poor back,” Steve said, rubbing his lower back with an exaggerated wince.

Tony rallied quickly. “Jarvis is older than you, and _he_ gives me piggyback rides all the time. He didn’t stop until I was sent to boarding school when I was seven.”

Steve didn’t claim to understand the inner workings of the rich, but surely boarding school at seven was excessive?

“Oh well, if _Jarvis_ can do it…”

Steve swooped in, lifted the boy high up and flipped him upside down.

Tony screeched with glee, limbs flailing about. “Ahhhhh, put me down! That’s not how you do piggyback rides! I call foul!”

“Hmm, I guess your head isn’t supposed to be where your feet are.” Steve flipped him right side up and tossed him gently onto the giant beanbags in the corner. 

Tony curled up giggling, surrounded by beanbags four times his size. “Again! I want you to do it again!”

JARVIS interrupted, “Captain Rogers, young Sir, Dr. Banner would like me to let you know that dinner is ready.”

Tony wheezed, “Okay, J. Tell Bruce we’ll be there with bells on.”

¢ ¢ ¢

Ten minutes later (after Steve took the quickest shower known to man), Steve and Tony sat at the kitchen table, wearing Santa hats with bells. Tony had claimed the blue Captain America Santa hat (a white star emblazoned in the center), so Steve was wearing the red and gold Iron Man Santa hat.

Bruce didn’t even blink when Tony presented him with a green Hulk Santa hat.

“It’s barely December,” he pointed out, but he put the hat on before Tony had a chance to pout. 

“Green seems to be theme of the evening,” Bruce said, ladling out curry onto their plates of rice. Except that didn’t look or smell like any curry that Steve knew (mostly from Bruce’s cooking, but still). The color, for one, was creamy light green.

Putting a spoonful of rice and the green sauce into his mouth, Steve felt himself light up at the mild, flavorful taste. “It’s cilantro and…lemongrass?”

Bruce nodded, looking gratified at Steve’s response. “It’s Thai green curry chicken. I didn’t say it was going to be Indian curry.” 

“Wow Bruce, just when I thought I’ve tasted every dish in your repertoire, you come up with a different cuisine altogether. You’re a man of unplumbed culinary talents!” Tony grinned around his own spoonful.

Bruce smiled. “I do know how to cook other dishes than Indian food. Indian just happens to be my favorite.”

Meanwhile, Steve was steadily demolishing the heap of warm rice and green curry on his plate. A small hand came up and wiped his chin.

“You have a splatter right there,” Tony said.

“Oh.” Steve blushed. He knew Tony wasn’t actually six, but it was still embarrassing to eat messily in front of him. 

The boy’s Iron Man shirt was pristine, and there wasn’t a single drop of curry on the white napkin spread across his lap. It was hard to believe that this was the same person who would subsist on nothing but smoothies and coffee fumes when on an engineering binge. (Steve had learned that if he leaves a plate of sandwiches at Tony’s elbow, the genius would absent-mindedly eat them.) 

“Eat up, Steve. There are plenty for seconds for everyone,” Bruce said, nodding at the industrial-sized pot on the stove. “I figured that Thai curry might be more to your taste.”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy your usual curry dishes,” Steve was quick to reassure him.

Bruce chuckled. “It’s okay, I get it. Not everyone eats their curry as spicy as Tony and Clint.” He thought that Bruce was probably used to cooking for Tony, back when Steve was on his road trip and it was just the 'science bros' at the tower. “I imagine those supersoldier taste buds don’t help either.”

Steve winced, remembering the one time he mistakenly ate Clint’s plate of curry. Tony had taken pity of him and poured him several glasses of milk in succession. He couldn’t taste anything else he put in his mouth for the rest of that dinner.

“Bruce, this was _amazing_ ,” Tony chimed in, polishing the last grains of rice on his plate. “I don’t suppose you also prepared dessert?” he asked, sounding hopeful. 

“As a matter of fact, I did. It’s out of season, but here,” Bruce set two small plates in front of them.

“Mango sweet rice! Awesome!” Tony enthused, before digging into the sticky dessert. “Mmm, I haven’t had this in forever. Steve, remind me to take you to this Thai restaurant. I can’t wait for you to try every single thing on the dessert menu. The things they do to cassavas there…”

“Sounds great.” Steve wasn’t sure what cassavas were, but he was glad of the invitation. Tony had been nothing less than welcoming ever since he moved to the tower, but he rarely proposed they go on outings together.

“You should come too, Dr. Banner.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your dinner date,” Bruce demurred, an undercurrent of amusement in his voice.

Steve turned to look at Tony, who now had a distinct pout on his face. _Was he not supposed to invite Bruce along to their outing?_

“Yeah, Brucie-bear isn’t a big fan of restaurants unless it’s a post-mission team bonding.” Tony popped a big mango slice into his mouth.

“I see.” Steve did not see.

“I do go to restaurants outside of those times. Last week Pepper invited me along to your favorite Japanese restaurant,” Bruce pointed out. Steve wasn’t going to get jealous that Bruce was on first-name basis with Tony’s best friends. _He wasn’t._

Tony took a gulp from his glass of ice water. “Who’s Pepper?”

¢ ¢ ¢


	2. Chapter 2

For several agonizing minutes, Steve had his heart in his mouth as he watched Bruce quiz Tony conversationally about the people in his life. He remembered Rhodey, JARVIS, and knew each Avengers team member by name, but showed no sign of recognition at Pepper and Happy’s names.

Then, apropos to nothing, he said, “I lost both the kids in the divorce.”

Steve looked at Bruce, only to receive the same look of incomprehension. _Tony had two kids nobody knew about? Tony was_ married? 

“Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan,” Tony said slowly. “My PA and chauffeur; now the CEO of Stark Industries and the head of security.” A light in those brown eyes shifted, as if coming out of a haze.

Both Steve and Bruce let out quiet sighs of relief.

Tony blinked rapidly, small fists tightening on the blue hat on his lap. “Pepper. I can’t believe I forgot Pepper. I can’t even function without her running my life.”

“Tony,” Bruce said gently. “Pepper’s not your personal assistant anymore.” And after Natasha’s infiltration, Steve doubted Tony would take a chance on another assistant. “In fact, you don’t have any personal assistant right now, and you have been handling your responsibilities like a reasonable adult.”

Tony gave Bruce a shaky grin—the self-deprecation out of place on such a young child’s face. “That was a bald-faced lie and you know it, Bruce. If I don’t have you and Captain Spangles to feed and water me, I’d probably collapse in the lab one of these days.”

“I think you don't give yourself enough credit,” Bruce said. When Tony still looked skeptical, he continued, “We wouldn’t let that happen, Tony. _JARVIS_ wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Dr. Banner is correct,” JARVIS said. “Your well-being is very important to all of us. DUM-E is ever diligent in expanding his nutritional smoothie recipes, as you well know.”

At the mention of DUM-E, Tony had a soft smile on his face. Steve figured only love could make someone drink some of the bot’s dubious smoothies.

“Also, none of us on this team is all that good at self-care. Except for Colonel Rhodes.”

Tony laughed and didn’t argue with Bruce’s assessment. “That’s because Rhodey realized, early on in our acquaintance, that he had to be the one together enough to get us out of all sorts of situation. Which was only fair, because the mess was usually fifty-percent—okay maybe forty-five percent—his fault.” 

Steve gave a weak chuckle, still feeling a bit shaken. “Sounds like the two of you have had some wild adventures together.”

Tony gave him a smile promising all sorts of delightful secrets. “My young padawan, the stories that I could tell you…”

¢ ¢ ¢

Afterward, Steve slipped away to contact Natasha and Clint. Tony and Bruce were throwing around theories about how his selective memory loss worked. (“When my memories as a child are the strongest and I forget the present, how come I still remember you guys?” Tony asked. “I wonder why you forgot _both_ Pepper and Happy,” Bruce said. “Maybe the two of them are a unit in your mind? They came into your life at different points of time…”)

Clint answered Steve’s call first. “Barton.” 

Steve quickly apprised him of the situation. 

“Dr. Banner said that short of monitoring Tony’s brain waves all the time, we have no idea what’s happening during his selective bouts of memory loss.” He frowned. “And considering that it’s magic-induced, we’d probably still have no idea what’s going on.”

“Magic _sucks_ ,” Clint vehemently agreed. Sometimes Steve forgot that Clint was a victim of mind control just months ago. 

“How are you doing with the twelve-year-old boy—Tyrone? Made any progress yet?” Steve asked, purposefully keeping his tone light.

“He warmed up to me enough to confirm Shawn’s claim that they got the spell from a magic website,” Clint said. “One of those websites that spell ‘magic’ with a ‘ck.’ He said if he remembered correctly, it had a sparkly star wallpaper. From the sound of it, it might have been an archived Geocities page. We have our tech people hunting down the most likely candidates.” 

Parsing down what Clint just said, Steve asked, “And how are those three kids? Anything out of the ordinary, other than their current age?” 

“Now that you mention it, Penny suddenly can play the piano—old showtunes and classical stuff.” 

“What?!” _Are the kids remembering things from Tony’s future? Or maybe their own?_ Steve didn’t know Tony could play the piano, although the man could definitely carry a tune.

“No, man, I’m just messing with you. When she still lived with her dad, their neighbor was a piano teacher.” 

“That wasn’t funny, Clint,” Steve said sternly. “Our teammate is compromised, and I would appreciate you not making jokes about it.”

“Sorry, Cap. Humor is my coping mechanism,” Clint said, sounding sheepish.

Slightly mollified, Steve asked Clint to keep him posted and ended the call.

“JARVIS, you got all that?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” the A.I. answered. “I’ve already narrowed the list down to 183 websites.”

While he was at it, he should notify Colonel Rhodes of the situation. As Steve understood it, the auxiliary Avenger was currently dealing with terrorist cells and would be out of reach for at least the next 48 hours. Coulson didn’t specifically say that they _shouldn’t_ notify Tony’s best friend, so Steve decided to leave him a voicemail.

¢ ¢ ¢

Back at the Avengers common area, Steve found himself agreeing to a Star Wars movie marathon. (“This movie’s not supposed to come out until next year!” Tony exclaimed. “Or thirty-five years ago, depending on how you look at it.”) Bruce excused himself to do some meditations before bed, but Steve got the impression that he was giving the two of them more time to bond. Steve appreciated the thought, but he didn’t know how much of Tony’s apparent fondness was his actual feeling toward Steve, and how much was a boy’s admiration of Captain America. 

With Tony giving instructions, they built a ‘blanket fort’ in front of the giant TV screen and piled ridiculous amounts of cushions inside. Tony plopped onto his back and patted for Steve to sit on the cushion next to him. Steve gingerly entered the blanket fort and found it just big enough inside for two adults lying side by side. It was nice and cozy. His apartment on the tower was comfortable, but some days Steve still didn’t know what to do with so much space. 

“JARVIS, hit the lights.”

The opening credits rolled, and the orchestra reached a crescendo. Steve sank into the plush cushions, leaned back, and watched.

“That beeping robot is cute,” Steve remarked. The robot reminded him of DUM-E.

“His name is R2D2. They’re called ‘droids’—short for androids,” Tony explained. “Here’s Princess Leia; you’re going to love her!”

Steve did.

From time to time Tony would whisper explanations or bits of trivia to him, but for the most part he was transfixed with the movie as if watching it for the first time.

Soon enough, they reached the end of the movie.

“Shouldn’t they give Chewbacca a medal too?”

“You know, I never thought of that,” Tony murmured. He had sunk further into the cushions and was now cuddled up against Steve’s side. “How xenophobic of them.”

The ending credits rolled, and Tony yawned behind one hand. He looked like a tiny disgruntled kitten.

Looking at him, Steve was struck with a surge of fondness. 

“I wish we were friends like this,” Steve said, smoothing down the boy’s brown locks. “Me and your older self, I mean.”

Tony leaned on Steve, chin digging into his chest, and regarded him quietly.

“But we _are_ friends,” he said, brown eyes wide and searching. “Aren’t we?” His voice betrayed a flash of insecurity.

“Yes,” Steve said, a soft smile on his face. “Yes, we are.”

¢ ¢ ¢

In the end, it took SHIELD another day and a half to come up with a reversal spell. According to SHIELD’s magic consultant, the ‘Dime a Dozen spell’ was actually a nonsense spell. It only worked because one of the three kids had strong magical powers, which was bolstered by the other two’s belief. It was also possible, but unlikely, that all three kids possessed hidden magical powers.

In a surprising moment of decency, SHIELD had declined from having the children examined for a ‘magical core,’ and so they were unsure who among the three was the magic user. Steve’s money was on Penelope, as she clearly was the leader of the group.

They had decided to attempt the reversal in the Avengers medical bay instead of SHIELD medical, despite Bruce’s protests that he wasn’t a medical doctor. (“You _practiced_ medicine for years,” Tony pointed out. “That’s good enough for me. Also, I don’t trust SHIELD not to try to clone me or stab me in the neck, take your pick.”)

Natasha and Clint ushered in three sullen-looking young men and woman through the glass door. Penelope, hair held back with butterfly barrettes, quickly positioned herself in front of the boys. Tyrone sighed and stepped up next to her. Shawn ducked his head and stayed behind Tyrone. 

“Welcome, magical villain wannabes!” Tony piped up. He had on his older self’s shirt and sweatpants, in anticipation for the reversal. “Sorry SHIELD kidnapped you and told who knew what lies to your guardians and family to keep them from panicking. But hey, at least you guys now know that you’ll grow up to become attractive adults!”

Penelope rolled her eyes, Tyrone gave him a blank look, and Shawn blushed red to the tips of his ears.

“S-sorry, Mr. Stark,” Shawn said meekly. “We didn’t mean to aim for you.”

“No, you weren’t,” Tony agreed. “You were aiming for my teammate, and I don’t like people taking shots at my teammates.” 

Penelope huffed. “The spell was meant for _Thor_ ; that’s why we conjured the yeti at his favorite frozen yogurt store. He’s a thousand-year old alien; he wouldn’t have noticed being thirty-six years younger. It’s your own fault for getting in the way of the spell!”

“ _P-Penelope!_ ” Shawn sounded horrified. Tyrone said quietly, “Not cool, man.”

She bit her lip and looked down, chastised. “…sorry.”

“Thor’s four thousand years old, actually,” Tony said, acting as if nothing else was said. 

Taking a deep breath, she stood taller and said, “It was my idea. Shawn and Tyrone were just going along with it. If someone should make amends, it should be me.” Over her friends’ protests, she continued, “I’ll stay at SHIELD, but let the two of them go.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Clint said. “Just what have they been telling you at SHIELD?”

Natasha left her post at the door and stepped closer to her. “SHIELD does many things with borderline legality—” _Like kidnap three minors and hold them for almost three days_ , Steve thought to himself. “—but we draw the line at recruiting child soldiers.”

“Let’s table that discussion for _after_ we get Tony and the three of you back to normal,” Steve said firmly. He wasn’t unsympathetic to the kids, but if their spell had hit Black Widow or a younger passerby instead, they would have been spelled _out of existence_. He wondered if the possibility had even occurred to them.

“Okay, um, the order we’ve decided on is Tyrone, Shawn, then me. Youngest to oldest,” Penelope said. “I held the coins last time, so I’m holding them this time too.” She took out three shiny dimes from her jacket pocket.

The three arranged themselves in a semicircle near Tony, who sat swinging his legs on the examination table. 

“Everyone remember their lines? Shawn, don’t stutter!” Penelope said, putting looks of alarm on Tony and Steve’s face. 

“I won’t,” Shawn said with determination.

“Okay, here goes…”

_Return time for this spell of mine. I turn back time on this body of mine._  
_Return time for this spell of mine. I turn back time on this body of mine._  
_Return time for this spell of mine. I turn back time on this body of mine._

As all three kids took turns saying the spell, a purple haze started to gather around them. Steve held his breath when he saw purple light swirling on top of Penelope’s outstretched hand. The last words of the spell spoken, she dropped the dimes one at a time into Tony’s cupped hands. 

The moment the last coin touched Tony’s palm, a blaze of purple light engulfed all of them, blinding everyone in the room.

¢ ¢ ¢

“Ow,” Tony said succinctly. His whole body hurt as if he was recovering from a bout of flu. Arm flying to his chest, he tapped his fingers on the solid surface of the arc reactor. “JARVIS?” he asked in a hoarse voice. 

“It is 2:26 p.m. on Sunday, December 2nd, 2012. You are in the medical bay at Avengers Tower, New York. You lost consciousness for nineteen minutes and seven seconds. You are forty-two years old. Welcome back, Sir,” JARVIS said warmly.

“Glad to be back, J,” Tony said, sitting up on the bed and stretching his arms over his head. “I’ve forgotten how hard it is to breathe with the arc reactor in my chest.”

“The arc reactor makes it hard for you to breathe?”

“ _Christ on a cracker!_ ” Tony shouted, clutching at his chest. “Cap, do you want to give me a heart attack just after you got me back?!”

Steve, looking unrepentant, shrugged his massive shoulders. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t see me. I _was_ sitting right next to the bed.”

“Clearly I was too focused on making sure I had my body back with properly functioning limbs!”

“So, the arc reactor?” Steve said, not to be deterred.

“Oh look, we should make sure that our magical villain wannabes are back to being their middle-schooler selves,” Tony said, speaking fast. “And we should help them down the path of truth and justice—the American way!” 

“I've got a bad feeling about this,” Steve said wryly.

“But not a future career as SHIELD agents, we don’t want that,” Tony barreled on. _Did Steve just?_ He paused. _No, it was probably a coincidence._

Steve shook his head with what Tony thought was fond exasperation. He recognized it because Rhodey wore that expression a lot around him.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of that explanation about your health,” he said. “The kids are fine. They were knocked out four, five minutes tops. Natasha gave them their change of clothes back, and they’re now drinking hot chocolate in the common area with the rest of our teammates.”

Tony righted his shirt and pants and stepped into plush, adult-sized Hulk slippers. JARVIS was _the greatest_.

“Cool. Lead the way, Cap!” he said, slinging an arm over Steve’s shoulder and pretending that his legs—his whole body—didn’t feel sore. 

¢ ¢ ¢

They entered the room to the smell of hot cocoa in the air. Tony’s stomach growled. Lunch felt like forever ago (or three days ago.)

“My dad lost our house because he’s addicted to gambling,” said the girl— _Penelope?_ —into her mug of hot chocolate. “He swore to me he’s pulling his act together. Even if he doesn’t, I have an aunt in Seattle who invited me to live with her.” 

Taking a sip from her hot chocolate, she continued, “It’s not me I’m worried about. I don’t want to leave Shawn in that place. Tyrone can’t watch over him all the time.”

Shawn flushed and shrunk into himself on the couch. Tyrone elbowed Penelope on the side, presumably for spilling about their situation and putting Shawn on the spot.

Tony could see how the small boy would be a favorite target for bullies. Tyrone was tall for a twelve-year-old, but Shawn looked like he was _ten_. And unlike kid Steve Rogers, he did not look like a kid who would throw a punch back.

“It’s—It’s not that bad,” Shawn mumbled.

“It _is_ that bad,” Tyrone said, grey eyes flashing. “Just because they don’t break any bones doesn’t mean it’s not bad.”

The mood turned grim. Natasha's face turned blank and dangerous. Bruce inhaled his herbal tea like he could inject calmness into his psyche. Clint pretended avid interest in his arrowheads, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He could feel Steve shifting behind him, but he didn't look back.

“So!” Tony exclaimed, strutting to the middle of the room. “I’m back to my devastating and handsome self; good job on the reversal spell, everyone! If you can hook up the people who want to be a bit older and those who want to be younger, you could make _millions_ —” There was a half-hearted chorus of _Tony_ s. “No? Just throwing that business idea out there.”

“Anyway, I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re looking for a change in your living situation.” Behind the couch, Bruce was rubbing his forehead as if to stave an incoming headache. His science bro knew him too well. _Is he really doing this? Yes, he is._

“Did you know,” Tony said slowly, all eyes on him, “that Clint Barton, our very own Hawkeye, is a registered foster parent in the city of New York?” He knew he was putting Clint on the spot, but no one in Clint's field of work would bother going through all the hoops (instead of just forging the papers) unless they wanted to be prepared for a situation just like this.

Three pairs of eyes swung from him to Clint, who was now tossing a satsuma from hand to hand. “It’s true, I’ve done all the training and got the certification and everything.”

“And Clint, you don’t _really_ need a shooting range on the unused half of your floor, right?” Tony could always build it on another floor. He’d build one with _Daleks and lasers_. “We can build, say, three bedrooms and two bathrooms there instead?”

The kids were now looking at Clint with expressions ranging from hope to caution and desperation. All three of them, even Tyrone, were employing puppy dog eyes on the archer. And— _was that a tiny smile on Natasha's face?_

Clint made a show of thinking it over for approximately five seconds before breaking into a wide grin. “Aww, okay. But only because the three of you are so cute.”

“YES!” Tyrone shouted and pumped his fist. Shawn threw himself first at Tyrone then Penelope; when Clint gave him an encouraging smile, he gave the man a shy smile and a side-hug.

“Oof!” Clint said, as Tyrone tackle-hugged him from the other side. 

“That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Stark, especially after all the trouble we caused you.” Penelope bit her lip, and asked, “What if our case workers don't approve it?” 

“Come on, what shouts responsible adult more than being an Avenger?” Tony waved an arm at Clint, who was now juggling three satsumas, a sneaker, and a knife, to the raucous cheering of the boys. Shawn only had one sneaker on. 

Penelope lifted an eyebrow at him. It was almost as good as Pepper’s technique; clearly this kid would go far in life.

“I see your point. Well, if they don’t find Hawkeye impressive enough, we could always throw Captain America at them.”

“Tony, are you trying to capitalize on my standing as Captain America? Again?” Steve folded awe-inspiring arms in front of his chest. His face held a stern expression, but Tony could read amusement in the corners of his mouth.

“Yes?” 

Steve smiled. “Since it’s for a good cause, I’ll let it slide.”

Tony let out an exaggerated breath of relief. 

“See? Registered foster parent, check; more than adequate accommodations, check; character reference from none other but Captain America, check.” Tony grinned widely at her.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I can't even—wow,” Penelope looked like she was starting to believe that this was happening.

“Katniss is doing all the hard work; I'm just your rent-free landlord,” Tony waved away her thanks. “Oh, and if all else fails, I could always throw money at your case workers.”

This time, the chorus of _Tony_ s from the adults was unanimous.

¢ ¢ ¢

A few hours later, Tony was knocking on Steve’s door.

“Hey,” Steve said, sounding surprised but pleased to see him.

“Hey,” Tony said, like the brilliant conversationalist he was. 

“Listen, um—” Steve rubbed at the back of his neck.

Before he could lose his nerve or regain his faculties, Tony blurted out, “You promised you'll go out with me!”

Steve blinked.

“...to dinner. On a date. A dinner date,” Tony clarified. He drew a circle in the air between them with his finger. “Thai restaurant? Thirty different desserts? I get that you promised that to my six-year-old self, but—Is any of this ringing a bell?”

“No, no, I remember,” Steve hurried to reassure him. 

“Oh, good.” For a second there he thought Steve was going to fake amnesia to get out of going on a date with him.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Steve said. _Star Wars references?_ Tony couldn't believe his ears. 

“And I’d love to go with you. On that dinner date.”

They stood there looking at each other, and Steve let out a nervous chuckle. _What did Steve have anything to be nervous about?_

“I was actually going to ask you if we could watch the next two Star Wars movies,” Steve said, a smile quirking one corner of his mouth. “If you’re not busy. We fell asleep in the middle of the second one, after all.”

“Yes,” Tony said immediately, heart beating against his arc reactor. “I’d love that. After dinner?”

Steve glanced at him, and whatever he saw on Tony's face made him blush. Tony had always been crap about hiding his feelings anyway.

“After dinner,” he agreed, a soft smile on his face. “And I think a blanket fort would really add to the atmosphere; don't you think?”

“Steve,” Tony said. “I’ll build you the most epic blanket fort this side of the galaxy.”

¢ ¢ ¢

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading =) 
> 
> Please do point out any SpaG errors. Feedback = <3
> 
> If you like this, you'd probably like [my other de-aged!Tony fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7709974), which I will complete...soon-ish.


End file.
